I moved from New York City to Pittsburgh for a fresh start, but it was a disaster. I now live in Los Angeles and love it.

I was almost 33 years old, had $200 in my savings account, and had felt adrift in New York City for years. So in December of 2012, after almost 12 years in the big city, I packed up my tiny one-bedroom apartment and moved to Pittsburgh, excited to restart in the Midwest.

I grew up in Cleveland, only two hours from my Shadyside neighborhood in Pittsburgh. (Well, only 80 minutes depending on how quickly I drove on the turnpike, but please don’t tell my mom.) While the catalyst for my move was mainly for a big Copy Director job at a fashion company, I was also excited to be closer to my immediate family and have the chance at a fresh start in both friendships and relationships.

The first six months were great. My job was going well, I connected with new friends, and I liked my neighborhood and apartment. I was also spending almost $1,000 less each month on rent, which was helping me finally save money. All in all, the move felt like a win.

And then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t. I lost my job. I realized I didn’t actually have that many friends there. And I started sinking into depression, wondering if I’d made the wrong choice.

Simultaneously, I kept visiting friends in Los Angeles. I’d always felt a pull to the West Coast, but because it was so far from family, I hadn’t tried to move there. After visiting six times within two years, however, I thought it might be time for something new.

What changed my mind

At 35, only a year and a half after moving to Pittsburgh, nothing was going right. I felt super lonely with only a couple of friends in the area. The food and bar scene, which seemed so vast upon my arrival, had shrunk to about 10 bars and restaurants I’d already visited and didn’t feel the need to go back to.

After months of struggling with my boss over creative vision, which typically ended in him telling me I was uncreative and unintelligent and me crying in a corner, I was unceremoniously fired.

That’s when I met my now ex. I’ll keep it short, but the gist is that when it ended between us, I had less of the savings I’d worked so hard to earn and lower self-respect.

At this point, I felt like I was dangling on a dangerous precipice. Pittsburgh, the city that had once seemed so full of possibility for me, was feeling more and more like a wasteland both professionally and personally.

I knew I needed a change.

Why I moved to Los Angeles

While I’d been visiting Los Angeles increasingly more in the last 15 months, I’d actually been going there for a decade at this point, visiting different friends and distant family members each time.

I’d always felt a strong connection to the city. It seemed as if creative vibes ran through every street, nook, and cranny. Practically everyone I met was creative in some way, and respected that trait in others, too.

I’d been craving that creative spark throughout my life, but especially in Pittsburgh, where saying I was a writer was typically met with blank stares.

Each visit made me want to leave even less. In fact, during a February 2015 trip, as my best friend drove me to the airport, I repeated, “I don’t want to leave.” At which point he said, “You don’t have to.” It was like a lightbulb went on over my head.

I didn’t have to leave Los Angeles, and I could leave the city that was dragging me down.

My bad decision ended up being the perfect one

Pittsburgh and I will never be friends. However, I’m grateful that my time there led me to where I’m actually supposed to be.

In October of 2015, I packed up my life once again. That same friend who’d driven me to the airport in February flew to Pittsburgh and spent five days driving across the country with me. When I finally drove on the 405 that first night in Los Angeles, it felt like I was home.

I’ve been able to build a successful freelance writing career and continue to feel creative every single day.

I’ve found my forever friends, the ones who will drive me to the hospital (which has happened) or just sit around my apartment laughing uproariously at a TV show.

I’m constantly finding new restaurants, bars, museums, popup exhibits, and other interesting ways to occupy my time. I go to weekly trivia nights with friends, hike Runyon Canyon with a college friend and his son, and visit Disneyland a few times a year.

I’ve never been one to sit home night after night, but I find myself actually having to schedule nights off since there’s so much happening all the time.

It’s been 10 years since I left Pittsburgh for Los Angeles. And it’s been the happiest, most settling, most fulfilling 10 years of my life.

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